DC Marriage Week
by CanaryCry
Summary: A week full of Birdflash matrimonial goodness. (Backstory loosely based on my Nightwing: Under the Red Hood fic, but reading that isn't necessary.)
1. Proposal

Dick had only put up token resistance to Wally's offer to take him out for lunch before letting the speedster drag him out the door, grumbling about leaving work unfinished.

"You've got plenty of time for work," Wally said, opening the passenger car door for him. "Tim agreed to help lighten your workload, and we'll be back before dark. I promise." Wally would have preferred to do dinner and not worry about keeping to a schedule, but with Bruce gone and Gotham still unstable from the recent chaos of its _holy shit there's no Batman_ phase, it just wasn't feasible.

Dick stuck his tongue out at him. Wally snorted and shut the door in his face, zipping around to the driver's side. They were acting as civilians today… mostly.

"Relax, babe," Wally said, navigating the car down the winding road that joined Wayne Manor to the rest of Gotham City. "Gotham isn't going to fall apart without you for a few hours."

"Easy for you to say," Dick muttered. Wally booped his nose, complete with sound effects, and the younger man's frown morphed into a grudging half-smile. "Okay, fine. I'll chill out. Where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there," Wally sang obnoxiously, making Dick punch his shoulder. "Hey! Don't punch the driver!"

"Keep your eyes on the road, Jeeves," Dick said sternly, settling back into his seat. He'd started bulking up so he could carve a more intimidating figure as Batman and Wally had to fight the urge to squeeze his muscular thighs. There hadn't been much downtime for the two of them since Bruce had been killed and all his former responsibilities had been thrown into Dick's lap. The tension had them snapping at each other with increasing frequency until Dick had all but banned Wally from the Batcave when he was working, which was practically all the time. Dick was always so exhausted when he finally went to bed that he fell asleep almost immediately. The two of them had barely had the chance to _touch_ each other for so long.

Wally tore his eyes from Dick and back onto the road, thanking his lucky stars for speedster reflexes. If Dick were anybody else, he probably wouldn't have noticed.

"See something you like?" Dick teased, giving him his best thousand-watt smile before tossing his hair back. He suddenly seemed about twenty years younger.

"Oh, you know, just some guy. Don't tell him, though. Wouldn't want it to go to his head. He already thinks way too much of himself."

"There's nothing wrong with a healthy ego, Wally." Dick was still smiling. When was the last time he had smiled like that? Wally couldn't remember. "I seem to remember a certain speedster thinking he was God's gift to women a while back."

"That was ten years ago," Wally whined, stopping at a traffic light. "You can't hold me responsible for what I did at fifteen years old. At least I didn't murder people." Wally regretted the words the instant they were out of his mouth.

Dick rolled his eyes at him. "No need to get nasty. I was just making a point." He didn't sound upset, thank God. "You still wanted to kiss me even after you found that out, so let's just say we both suck."

"Not as often as we used to…"

Dick sighed. "I left myself wide open for that one."

"Not as much as—"

"Stop."

Wally turned the car into a parking lot nearby. There were fewer people going out in the wake of Gotham's little crime spree. Alfred had lent him one of the less ostentatious cars Bruce had owned—well, they were probably Dick's now—so they wouldn't be as liable to carjacking or vandalism or anything of that nature. In fact, the fancier cars pretty much did nothing but gather dust in the manor's underground garage these days.

"I've seen about six different eating places in the local area," Dick said, unfastening his seatbelt. "Given your insistence that we're on a romantic date, I'm going to assume we're not getting fast food, so that removes half of them. Now we're left with a sushi place, an Italian restaurant and an Indian place that serves the spiciest food on Gotham. I'm assuming you don't want to burn my tongue into oblivion today, so that one's out. That leaves us with either sushi or Italian. How am I doing so far?"

Wally groaned and rested his face against the steering wheel. "I hate you so much."

"But wait, there's more," Dick said brightly, pressing the button to release Wally's seatbelt. "You always complain about sushi not being filling and the particular Italian restaurant we're near has a reputation for enormous portion sizes, which is totally your thing. We're having Italian."

"Oh my God, Dick. Can't you just turn off the detective brain and let me surprise you for once?"

Dick laughed at his forlorn expression. "Nope. Can't turn it off. Small price to pay for being a genius." He pressed a kiss onto Wally's temple. "And I don't know what you mean with this 'for once' business. You've surprised me plenty of times. Now, come on. I'm hungry."

As if just to be doubly annoying, Dick led the way to the restaurant with Wally trailing after him, grumbling under his breath. The reversal of roles would've been funny on another day, maybe, if Wally wasn't already freaking out on the inside. He felt for the box in his pocket, letting out a breath when he found it still there. Hopefully Dick wouldn't figure out that part of his plans until the time was right.

The restaurant was a little place nestled between a Mom and Pop store and a coffeehouse, right across from the botanical gardens. A few Gothamites chatted and smoked in between bites of their lunch in the tables and chairs on the sidewalk, as it was a non-smoking area inside. Wally reached for Dick's hand, taking the lead at last, and pushed open the door.

It was like stepping into somebody's house. The worn wooden floors were the colour of honey and photos hung in frames on the cream walls. A collection of pot plants decorated the corners. Dick ran his finger along a leaf while Wally spoke to the hostess, a squat, older lady who reminded Dick of the Haly's Circus cook.

After a moment, the woman raised her voice so Dick could hear her. "Come." Her voice was brisk, but not altogether unpleasant. She beckoned them onwards, already heading further into the restaurant. She barked instructions in Italian to a few young waiters she passed before finally leading the two men to a table in the corner, where she left them with a small smile.

"Busy lady," Dick commented as the two of them sat down in polished wooden chairs that matched the floor.

"I think she's the owner," Wally replied. He was already reading the menu. Dick plucked his own from the red-and-white checkered tablecloth.

"So, how many dishes are we ordering just for you?" he said. "Five?"

"Three should do me." Wally grinned at him over the menu. "You probably won't finish one, but that's okay. I'll be happy to assist."

"I'll be sure to pick something we both like." Dick chuckled. "Not that it's hard. You'll eat anything."

"I like to think of it as one of my finer qualities."

A waitress came around and took their drink order before disappearing into the kitchen. Dick spent a moment gazing around the room, his eyebrows contracting slightly.

"What's on your mind, babe?"

"I can't remember the last time I left the house as, well, me." Dick smiled ruefully. "Things have been hectic lately."

"Yeah, they have. But we are _so_ not talking about that right now. I got you out of the house to get you away from all that." Wally reached for Dick's hand, intertwining their fingers. Dick looked down at their hands and his expression seemed to soften a little.

"Okay." He kissed the knuckles on Wally's fingers one-by-one, apparently forgetting they were in public. Wally didn't mind. If they were recognised, their relationship was old news by now anyway. It was unusual for Dick to do things without thinking, so Wally just sat back and enjoyed his boyfriend's momentary lapse in paranoia.

Dick snapped back to himself when the waitress returned with their drinks, hastily taking a sip of his coke to avoid the wink she threw his way. Wally held back a laugh purely because he enjoyed Dick's lapses far too much and never wanted him to stop. They tended to happen most often when Dick had been overworking himself—'detective fatigue', Wally liked to call it.

They ordered their lunch and blushed at the waitress's knowing little smirk as she left them. Dick appeared to be fascinated by one of the nearby photos on the wall. Wally wanted to kiss the colour that sat high in his cheeks, feel the heat on his lips. Maybe he could convince Dick to take the night off for the first time since things started going to hell. Wally missed their time together, even though he understood why Dick didn't have much time for him anymore. It wasn't easy having to juggle Batman, Wayne Enterprises (even with Tim's help), dupe everybody into thinking Bruce is merely overseas, and manage a family in mourning.

But that thought only further cemented the idea in Wally's mind. They'd had a hard few months, and had to take their breaks and their happiness where they could find them… while they still _could_ find them. Dick had suffered immensely in the wake of Bruce's death. It was strange to think that it was only a short time ago that the man had still been with them. Wally had held off the idea of proposing at first while Dick found his feet, but the thought of waiting any longer and potentially losing the chance haunted him.

Dick nudged his foot. "What are you thinking about?"

Wally shrugged. "Stuff."

Dick gave him a _look_. "Right."

A waiter put a basket of bread on the table with a little tub of olive oil for dipping. Wally rubbed his hands together and took a piece. Dick didn't bother; if the portions were as big as they were rumoured to be, he was going to need all the space in his stomach he could save. Wally moaned obscenely with a piece of bread in his mouth, making Dick laugh.

"That good, huh?"

Wally swallowed his bite. "Best bread ever, man. Here, try a bit."

Dick took the piece offered and dunked it in the olive oil before popping it in his mouth. He gave Wally a thumbs-up, but rejected the next piece his boyfriend tried to send his way. His stomach was not a bottomless pit, thank you very much. Wally took it upon himself to eat all the bread, chattering about silly things between bites.

Their food eventually arrived and Wally spent a few minutes sampling everything, moaning again and drawing amused stares from the other patrons. Dick hid his smirk behind the hand holding his fork as he tried to chew his gnocchi without choking.

"Should I leave you four alone?" he said once he'd managed to swallow.

"Relax, babe. Everybody gets a piece of the Wall-man."

Dick had chosen the wrong time to take a sip of his drink, nearly spitting it everywhere. Wally laughed loudly at him.

"Oh, hush," Dick said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "For one of the least promiscuous people I know—"

"Says one of the most promiscuous people I know."

"Feeling threatened… _Wall-man_?"

"Me? Pfft. As if." Wally stuffed several bites of risotto into his mouth.

"Aw, it's okay," Dick said sweetly. "You know I've only got eyes for you, sweetums."

Wally swallowed his food in a hurry to stop himself from choking, taking a hasty sip of lemonade to clear his throat. "Sweetums? Really?"

"You called me 'sugarbutt' in front of the Team _and_ the League the other day," Dick reminded him. "I can't let you corner the market on gross pet names, now can I?"

"Hey, I apologised for that!"

"Only because half the Team threatened you." Dick went back to his neglected gnocchi.

"Yeah, the half you've slept with," Wally muttered.

"I don't hear you complaining when I'm showing you what I learned from all my, uh, _whoring around_," Dick said, barely loud enough to carry across the table. He was wearing the same smirk he had the night all their self-control was shot to hell and they ended up in his bed. Wally had to look away, a shiver running down his spine at the memory. It would be just like Dick to turn him on in public just to embarrass him.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"And it wasn't _half_, Wally. _God_."

"Either name's fine, babe."

"I'm going to stab you."

Wally waggled his eyebrows. "That's my job."

"I—" Dick cut himself off, staring at Wally like he was about to flip the table over right in his face. "You're unbelievable. Just…" He dropped his head onto the table. "Unbelievable."

Wally took that as a compliment. "So, you gonna eat that?"

"Ugh, just take it away from me before I explode and/or shove your face in it."

"Love you too, babe." Wally took the bowl away from him, shoving the stacked plates and bowls he had finished with off to the side to make room. He looked up at Dick, who had recovered enough to take a long slurp of his coke. "So, you wanna order dessert?"

Dick looked at him with wide eyes. "You're insane. Let's do it."

The remaining gnocchi was gone in a heartbeat. Their favourite waitress came to take the dishes away and Wally asked to look at the dessert menu. While she was depositing the plates in the kitchen, Wally watched Dick make a subtle sweep of the room. He had relaxed since leaving the house, but there was always a little bit of him on guard. Wally found it endearing, really. He wondered about when to bring out the box. Should he do it after they order dessert but before it arrives? During dessert? Right afterwards? No, that was too late. As the dessert arrives? Maybe. Or maybe he could just wait for a lull in the conversation while they were waiting for dessert. He was thinking way too hard about this.

The waitress brought a menu around and Dick and Wally quickly picked out their desserts. As the waitress walked away again, Dick fixed Wally with another one of his _looks_.

"You're tense," he said, letting the question of _why_ hang, unasked, in the air between them. Dick was good at that, asking but not asking. Probably picked it up from Bruce.

"Just thinking," Wally replied quietly, not quite able to feign levity like he may have under different circumstances.

"About?"

"…Us." Wally let out a breath. _Now. Do it now._

"Oh?" Dick's eyebrows contracted briefly before he smoothed out his face. _Oh shit he's giving me the poker face oh shit oh shit_

"It's nothing bad," Wally said hastily.

Dick blinked, but gave no other reaction; he'd officially shut down his facial expressions.

"Dick, I mean it. It's okay."

"Okay…" Dick forced a smile onto his face, but at least it touched his eyes so it wasn't entirely fake. "What exactly were you thinking about us?"

Wally suddenly felt self-conscious. He was about to make a total fool out of himself in front of a restaurant full of people. But why did he even care about them?

Wally reached out and grasped Dick's hand, running his thumb along the knuckle of Dick's. "Oh, you know, we've known each other for a long time. Dated on and off. We've been pretty serious for a while. Hell, even your little demon brother doesn't seem to actively hate me anymore."

"I may or may not have had something to do with that." Dick's face had opened up again at last. Crisis averted.

"Well, uh, thanks." Wally laughed nervously. "Um, anyway, before Bruce, uh, you know… passed… he and I were talking about stuff." Dick's face had shuttered a little again at the mention of Bruce. "I mean, you know he wasn't totally happy about us dating again after I broke your heart last time, but he'd kind of… warmed up to the idea. Said that as long as I was making you happy, he was happy."

"That's nice of him," Dick said, a little vaguely. The memory of Bruce was still painful. Wally squeezed his hand tight.

"I'm sorry for bringing him up, but I wanted to tell you he… gave us his blessing."

Dick's eyes sharpened. "You're not talking about him being cool with us dating anymore."

"You're right. I'm not." Wally slid off his chair and knelt on the floor in front of Dick, his heart catapulting into his eardrums as he fumbled in his pocket for the box. There was a sharp intake of breath above him and Wally looked up to find Dick's eyes had widened to vaguely the size of the pasta bowls that had recently been on the table.

"Wally…"

"Dick. Babe." Wally finally got the box free and opened it with his free hand. "Will you marry me?"

"Holy shit, Wally."

"We don't have to do it, like, tomorrow," Wally said quickly. "I just thought, you know, when things have settled down a little—"

"Oh my God. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

Wally pulled out one of the two diamond-encrusted platinum rings—thank you, Bruce—from the box and slid it onto Dick's left ring finger.

"Ooh, a second ring?" Dick said. "Thank God for that."

"What?" Wally was still reeling.

"Just because I'm the pretty one doesn't make me the woman in this relationship," Dick said, plucking the other ring from the box and slipping it onto Wally's finger. "Now get up and kiss me."

The whole restaurant applauded as Wally got to his feet, pulled Dick from the chair, and pressed their lips together. Dick threw his arms around Wally's neck, pressing as close as humanly possible.

Dick did end up taking the night off after all.


	2. Bachelor Party (but not really)

"I thought you'd be all for one last night of, uh, debauchery before getting all tied down for life," Wally said between mouthfuls of popcorn, sprawled on the couch beside his fiancé, who was tapping away at his laptop and frowning at the screen. You would've thought that Bruce coming back from his trip through the time stream or whatever the hell he was doing would've taken a load off Dick's shoulders, but no, Bruce decided to head off again without publicising his return, leaving Dick to keep managing Batman, a joint position in Wayne Enterprises with Tim, and, of course, taking care of Damian.

Dick shrugged, his eyes still glued to the screen. "I don't think of marriage as tying me down. If I did, I wouldn't have agreed to it. It's more of a formality at this point anyway. You'll still be operating in Central City and I've still got work in Gotham. Aside from the legal recognition, not a lot's going to change."

"Mm, I guess." Wally lifted a piece of popcorn to Dick's lips without lifting himself out of his position. "Hadn't really thought about it. Maybe I could-"

"Being the protector of a city you don't live in doesn't really work," Dick replied, nipping Wally's finger on purpose as he took the popcorn. "You can't keep your finger on the pulse if you're not around to do it. As long as you're the Flash, you need to spend time in Central."

"You still helped Bruce out even when you lived in Bludhaven."

Dick stopped typing at last. "Yeah, but he called the shots. I was familiar with the city and tried to keep up-to-date on current events, but that was only possible because of Oracle and the other bats who were out there on the ground. You're the Flash. As far as superhero authority goes, you're the boss of Central. Iris and Barry can help you a little because of their jobs, but there's only so much they can do now that Barry's out of the biz."

"Okay, fine. But you have to visit my new apartment."

"When there's time," Dick replied distractedly, tapping the keys again. The sound was oddly relaxing; maybe it was because Dick only used his laptop when he had enough downtime to change out of costume and just hang out at home. These days, more often than not, he was working down in the Batcave on that computer or on the holographic computer fastened to either his wrist or incorporated into his gauntlet. Things had settled down a little in the wake of Bruce's return, though that probably had more to do with the fact Dick needed time to recuperate from being shot in the head. He was still technically recovering, but had already started up light patrols again. Wally was a little annoyed at Bruce on that front, since he probably could have convinced Dick to take the time he needed if Bruce had taken over his duties as Batman again.

"There's no time like the present," Wally said around a mouthful of popcorn. "Okay, so no bachelor party. How about just a party? Even if we throw out the whole notion of marriage tying us up-heh, kinky-it's still a big step."

"A small party," Dick conceded. "Friends and family only."

Wally snorted. "That's still a lot of people."

"Well, I take it you're going to bully Hal into getting you that alien alcohol that'll actually get you drunk," Dick replied. "Maybe we should avoid inviting anybody you don't want seeing you passed out in a puddle of your own vomit."

"Okay, so Bruce is not invited."

"Obviously." Dick smirked, gazing up at the ceiling. Wally could see the cogs working in his brain. "This is going end up like a bachelor party without the strippers, isn't it?"

"Uh... maybe?" Wally smiled sheepishly. "If I fed you more popcorn, would you forgive me?"

"Make me a new bowl and I'll consider it." Dick shut his laptop. "If there's going to be alcohol involved, we probably shouldn't invite anybody who's underage. I'd rather not have to deal with certain Leaguers if anything happened to their charges. I'd rather not get married with a broken arm or neck."

"Yeah, that'd suck."

Dick had his thinking face on again. "How big's your apartment?"

"Why?"

"I don't think Bruce and Alfred would appreciate us throwing a great, big alcohol-fuelled party in this house. Besides, Damian won't be happy about being excluded and I _so_ don't want to deal with that all night."

Wally shuddered. "Yeah, good point. My apartment's big enough for a small party, I guess, and my neighbours are pretty cool. As long as we're quiet enough after eleven and I warn them in advance, it should be okay."

"So, maybe ten people?"

"Something like that. Let's stick with people who know our identities. Like, people who were on the Team early on."

"Including Roy?"

"Sure, let's invite him. What about Jason? Isn't he twenty-one now?"

"He is. I can ask him, but he might not want to come. He's been avoiding the family since Bruce came back. He might come if we invite Barbara, as long as your apartment is wheelchair-accessible."

"Ramps and elevators everywhere."

"Excellent. So, year zero Team plus Jason? And what about Mal and Karen?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Okay, pick a date and I'll handle the invites."

* * *

Barbara showed up at the apartment just as Dick was returning from the nearby store, having filled Wally's car with snacks and drinks because the Flash was busy halfway across the city with a mall on fire or something.

"Need a hand?" she asked, watching him lift bags out of the trunk.

"Sure. Thanks." Dick placed a few bags in her lap before manoeuvring the rest into his hold and shutting the trunk. They left the parking garage for the elevator up to the apartment together. The apartment block was much brighter than Dick was used to, having lived mostly in Gotham and Blüdhaven in run-down neighbourhoods.

"I'm glad you could tear yourself away from work for one night," Dick said, pressing the button to Wally's floor. Barbara smirked.

"You're adorable."

"You're going to spend half the night fighting crime from your cell phone, aren't you?"

"Maybe." The elevator doors opened and Barbara wheeled herself out ahead of Dick. He lost sight of her around the corner for a moment and, by the time he caught up, she'd somehow managed to get the door to Wally's apartment open.

"After tonight, I'm coughing up for better security," Dick said, following her inside.

"You better. I'm embarrassed for your husband-to-be." Barbara deposited her share of the bags on the kitchen bench. "Soo, I heard you vetoed the strippers."

"This isn't a bachelor party," Dick replied, beginning to unpack the shopping. "It's a party."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

Dick threw an apple at her, which he caught effortlessly. "What's the point in hiring strippers when I've slept with most of the people we invited?"

Barbara choked on a mouthful of fruit, swatting his butt. Wally appeared in the doorway, sooty, sweaty and dishevelled. At least he'd thought to change into civvies before showing up at his apartment.

"How'd it go?" Dick asked, tossing another apple in his direction.

"Fire's out." Wally groaned and threw himself onto the couch. "Please tell me Hal delivered the goods."

Dick nodded towards a large paper bag by the sink. "That he did."

"Oh, thank God." Wally stumbled in the direction of the stairs. The second floor housed his bedroom and bathroom. Having only one bathroom in the place could be potentially problematic, depending on how drunk people were going to get.

The next arrival didn't bother knocking. Jason strolled in, motorcycle jacket flung over one shoulder and a plastic bag full of clinking bottles in hand.

"Your boyfriend's security sucks," he said, depositing the bag on the bench.

"Fiancé," Dick corrected, peeking inside. Bottles and bottles of decent-quality beer. "I'll fix it later. Did you ride your bike all the way from Gotham?"

Jason made a show of adjusting his jeans, wincing dramatically. "Daddy Dearest never programmed me back into the zeta tubes."

"You can stay over tonight if you want," Dick offered, pulling the bottles out and lining them up on the bench.

"It's—"

"Hush. I don't want you having an accident because you're tired and intoxicated."

Jason made a dismissive _psh_ sound. "As if I would."

"I'll love you forever if you stay, Jay."

"Aww, you're gonna make me puke."

"You're staying," Barbara cut in. "Don't make me call Alfred."

Jason held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. But I better not have to hold Dickhead's hair back, because I'll just drop your face in the toilet."

"I'm not drinking tonight," Dick said, touching the top of a beer bottle with regret. "Leslie doesn't want me risking it so soon after, you know, getting shot in the head."

"What a shame," Jason muttered. "The Replacement gave me a camera. I think he wants me to take compromising pictures and send them to him."

"Ahh, Timmy's just sad he can't be here to take them himself. You guys hungry?"

"I am!" Wally tore into the kitchen, only half-wearing his t-shirt. Dick pulled Wally's arm through the hole, tugged it down to cover his midriff and shoved him towards the fridge.

"It's your house. Feed yourself."

* * *

The other guests trickled in as the sun began to sink and Wally returned from stocking up at the nearest shop because he kept eating the snacks Dick had bought. Kaldur, Artemis and Roy arrived together and claimed the couch, quickly followed by Raquel and Zatanna claiming spots on the floor, and then Conner and M'gann, the latter of whom managed to squeeze into what little space was left on the couch while Conner sat by her legs. The group was settled with drinks and snacks in front of the TV when Mal and Karen finally showed up.

"Sorry," said Karen, shouldering her coat off into Mal's hands. "I got caught up at the lab."

"I tried to tell you we were late," Mal responded, but Karen made a silly face at him and he gave up.

"It's okay," Dick said. "Grab something to eat and drink and—oh, right, we're out of seats—grab a cushion or person to sit on. You know, make yourselves at home." He scrounged up two more pillows—Wally was a little incapacitated by whatever super-strength fluorescent green hell-liquor Hal had sent—and got the pair settled before returning to his fiancé's side.

"Heyyyyy," Wally drawled, flopping his head onto Dick's shoulder the instant he sat down. Dick patted his head.

"Maybe you should ease up on the unalcoholy for a bit." He grabbed a bowl off the coffee table. "Here, chips. Eat. Slowly."

"Ease up on the what?"

"It—let's just forget I said that. Ease up on the booze and eat some chips before I stuff them down your throat."

"Hey, Roy," said Jason, turning away from his game of blackjack with Barbara. "Was your marriage with Cheshire like that?"

"Shut up."

"You know, Arsenal has a better sense of humour."

Dick choked on his beer. Roy threw a chip at Jason's head, but the younger man opened his lips and managed to catch the damn thing in his mouth. Amidst applause from the others, Roy gave him a grudging salute.

"No, but seriously, Roy," Artemis chimed in. "I want to know the answer, too."

"We've been to couples counselling," Roy grumbled, hiding half his face behind his glass. He hadn't drunk very much, but Dick wasn't sure whether there was a reason behind his caution or not. Dick had checked with him about being around alcohol before inviting him, just in case.

Wally giggled, his head still lolling on Dick's shoulder, only quieting down when Dick fed him chips. Jason swore loudly while Barbara smirked and collected their game's winnings: a handful of candy bars.

"I'm still disappointed there are no strippers," she said, throwing a candy bar at Jason to shut him up. "Now, if we were having this party in Gotham…"

Jason snorted. "There's a new strip club where everyone dresses up like you superlosers."

"That's a clever insult Jason," Dick needled. "Did you come up with that by yourself?"

"Says the guy who just invented the word _unalcoholy_."

"I like it," M'gann chimed in. Dick reached over from his spot on the floor and bumped her fist.

"But I wanna brofist," Wally whined and Dick gave him one. Wally smiled contentedly, slid off Dick's shoulder and landed flat on his face. Jason snapped a picture.

"Send me copies," Dick mouthed at him before rolling Wally onto his back. "You okay, dude?" Wally gave him a thumbs up, but made no attempt to sit up. "You… just gonna stay down there?" Wally shoved his face into the pillow, extremely close to Dick's butt. "Right. Okay. You do that. How are we for snacks, guys? Anybody about to waste away?"

"I believe we are out of chips," said Kaldur, who had previously been watching the TV in silence.

"Don't worry about it," Jason said to Dick. "Babs and I already ordered something."

Dick narrowed his eyes. "What exactly did you order?"

"You'll find out," Barbara replied. "It'll be here soon."

"It better be food," Wally said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I want food."

"You always want food," Dick said, patting him on the head. Wally purred like a kitten, which Jason caught on camera.

"What's the deal with the camera?" Conner asked him.

"The Rep—Tim gave it to me," Jason replied, taking a sudden photo of Conner's face… with flash.

"He wants blackmail material, apparently," Dick added once Conner stopped glaring.

"Well, he got it," said Karen, glancing at her watch. "Lord Almighty, is it that late already?" Everyone else checked their watches. It was after midnight.

"It's not that late," Zatanna said cheerfully, stretching out on the floor.

"Easy for you to say," replied Raquel. "I left Amistad with a sitter."

"Okay, who's staying over and who needs to leave?" Dick asked the room at large. Meanwhile, Barbara had wheeled herself out into the kitchen to take a phone call.

"I'll stay," said Zatanna. Conner, M'gann, Artemis and Kaldur echoed that statement. Dick turned around to remind Jason he'd already agreed to stick around, but he had followed Barbara out of the room. Well, that wasn't suspicious at all.

"Do the rest of you guys remember the way to the zeta tube?" Dick asked instead. "Central's a pretty quiet city, but I'd still head down there as a group this late at night." The group didn't get a chance to say their goodbyes before somebody buzzed the apartment and Jason came tearing out of the kitchen to answer it before Dick could get up. Barbara wheeled back into the living room, smiling innocently.

"Food's here," Jason said after buzzing whoever it was through. Wally zipped into a sitting position, grinning.

"Hal really came through, didn't he?" said Dick.

"Yeah." Wally whistled. "Wow. It's starting to wear off now, though." He reached for the bottle, which was only half-full at this point. Dick slapped his hand away.

"I don't believe you."

Eventually, there was a knock on the door. Jason made a grand gesture in its direction which Dick took to mean he could answer it. Cautiously. Jason and Barbara were quite possibly the two most dangerous people he knew, and they had clearly hatched some kind of plan.

Dick gathered his wits and pulled the door open to find an enormous cake decorated with black and blue frosting. _I swear to God if you two—_

The top half of the cake exploded as somebody leaped out of it… somebody wearing a version of the Nightwing costume that seemed even clingier than the original.

The dark-haired man grinned and put his hands on his hips in a ridiculous superhero pose. "Holy matrimony—"

"Jason, Barbara," Dick said, "I'm going to kill the both of you."

Raquel made a noise of appreciation. "I guess I can stay a little longer."


End file.
